


Deliverance

by BethLange



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Loki has a heart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 04:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethLange/pseuds/BethLange
Summary: Just a little Iron Frost vignette.  My first for this fandom.





	Deliverance

I'm still falling. 

Oh Gods, I'm still falling. 

I am endlessly falling, and my body is flailing, and there is no air to breathe. And I know - I absolutely know - that I am going to die.

It was a desperate decision. A reckless decision. 

And this time I really am going to die.

I wake thrashing and howling, spewing incoherent babble. Cast adrift with no compass. No idea of where I am. At this moment the concept of language is completely beyond me. I am drowning in terror and I can no longer speak.

What is this? Where am I? 

What is happening to me? What is ..

“Shh.. now,” someone is crooning. And that voice is so soothing. “You're awake now. You are safe here with me.” 

I hear the satin sheets rustle and glide against one another, as the ghostlike figure that is lying beside me half rises and moves nearer.

He inches in closer, supports his head on one elbow and stares down at me thoughtfully, studying me. 

And he seems concerned. From the tone of his voice he seems to be genuinely concerned. 

“What was it this time, if you do not mind me asking? I really don't mean to pry but you seemed quite disturbed.”

I check my life signs and feel my heartbeat returning to normal. My pulse is no longer racing. And once again I can breathe. I can actually breathe..

“It was nothing,” I murmur, embarrassed, shamefully so, as always. “ Nothing really. I was... just.. falling.” Again. I was falling again. 

Is this ever going to stop? Will I ever be rid of..?

A few moments of silence. Then a quiet inhalation. And somehow I can feel that he is gathering his thoughts, putting them all into order, before presenting them to me.

“Ah, falling, “ he finally says, very softly. “ Now that is something I can relate to...” His voice roughens just a little and I can detect a tinge of - what is that? – bitterness, perhaps? “..however, you have somewhat of an advantage over me in that respect.” 

The apparition coalesces until it resolves itself into a face. It is a pale familiar face. One that I know so very well now. 

Then it leans in close to mine and it whispers: “Because there was someone there to catch you. I almost envy you that.”

A hand reaches down from the shadows. It is almost ethereal and its touch is like gossamer, so feather light. I close my eyes as it caresses my face and gently cradles my cheek and I am moved beyond speech. I sigh and lean into the contact. 

“And there always will be, if I have my way,” he hisses, crushing me to him, his body hard against mine. “Make no mistake, Anthony Stark, you can be certain of that.” 

I think my bones are beginning to melt. 

Did I really hear that? 

My own personal catcher. 

Well, whaddya know? 

I breathe in his very existence, entangle my hands in that black silken hair and haul him in for a kiss.

 

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